


Cynosure

by cosmicchelc



Series: Lucifendi Stories [21]
Category: Layton Brothers: Mystery Room, Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:41:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicchelc/pseuds/cosmicchelc
Summary: What was the saying?You don't know how it feels until it happens to you?This was a possibility, something the two knew could very well happen. They just hadn't expect it to be so soon.Juniper Lucille Layton has gone missing and her parents will turn the world over to find her.
Relationships: Goldie Potsby-Mahn/Bingo, Lucy Baker/Alfendi Layton
Series: Lucifendi Stories [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1106973
Kudos: 5





	Cynosure

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm not dead, I promise you. I'm just stuck with the unfortunate pain of university online; love how my college experience turned out to be online, oh well. Anyway! I know you guys are more interested in the end of Dear Lucy or even any sort of update on the other two longer fanfics that I'm working on, but I'm still trying to figure them out and myself out. That's kind of my problem with longer fanfics like those—I tend to just lose the plot entirely, which is why I stick to one-shots. I hope this suffices as some sort of apology; I'm real sorry. :(
> 
> Admittedly, this is the story I’d probably ask you to suspend your realities in—it’s rough and pretty lame in terms of plot, but I just needed practice writing up these fools. 
> 
> Truthfully, I spent a solid 5 minutes trying to come up with a name for the little Lucifendi love child and in the end, I settled with this name. I dunno why. I just...did.
> 
> Like all my other recent Lucifendi fanfictions, Potty is Al and Placid is Fendi. They won't be present as much as my other fanfictions, but it's mentioned, so I thought to let you know if you weren't aware.

Lucy and Alfendi both knew the lives they led had it's own unique spark of danger; they had to interview suspects and solve murders. It wasn't your typical, nine-to-five job where one would be doing some mundane task as a little grunt in the system--it made a proper difference in the long run. Although it was hardly field work, it certainly had it's own flavour of peril. It was like any other true crime show on the telly, only the murders were hardly ones fabricated from the mind nor were they were just pretend. All of it was one-hundred percent real, along with the concerns they had in the back of their minds towards their own safety.

It remained unsaid that when the two occupants of the Mystery Room had gotten intimate. There was always a danger that was presented, where one could be used against the other to stop an investigation or to seek revenge for another who had gone to prison.

It remained unsaid when the Detective Chief Inspector and Detective Inspector -- promotions Alfendi and Lucy respectively, had received not long after Forbodium to the Commissioner's insistence -- had gotten married that the danger was tenfold, where it was no longer just a girlfriend and boyfriend situation; they were now husband and wife, more fodder for their unseen enemies to take and twist as they saw fit.

It remained unsaid when the two that had been married for a year finally welcomed their child to the world, Juniper Lucille Layton -- the first name coming from Lucy's mouth when she first saw their child and the middle name coming from Alfendi's insistence that the child kept a part of Lucy in her name, to which Lucy smiled at his sentiment -- with soft promises that the young child would be protected with every ounce of the power afforded to them.

For three years after Juniper (Juni, they called her) was born, neither would admit it, but they were glad their enemies hadn't chosen to ignore the silent heeding they worried about constantly. For three beautiful years, they raised their child as best as they could, occasionally bringing her in when cases ran long, with the child sleeping softly on the couch nearby.

For three years, it remained as wonderful as it could be with a toddler and a career hunting down murderers with cunning and wit.

It was astounding they lasted that long.

_Nineteen Hours Ago_

"Daddy! Look!"

Alfendi peered down, finding himself looking at a messy scribble of their flat and three crude stick figures, raised towards him by small fingers that drew such a masterpiece. Her crayons are scattered across the floor, her drawing paper a mess along with it--they'll have to clean up before Lucy was finished with dinner, lest she get upset, he thought to himself.

"I see, Juni, it's quite lovely. Who's who?" The man asked to humour her, but she doesn't know the difference between sincerity and a lie--yet, even if the child was quite intelligent for her age (at least in Alfendi's opinion). He crouches down and the toddler crawls towards him until he's forced down fully, a lapful of toddler on him as she pointed to each stick figure. She began with the dark, lanky figure with red hair.

"Daddy, mummy and me!" She grinned to her father, snuggling close. "Like it?"

"Of course, my darling, I do," Alfendi leaned down, kissing the soft ginger hair and her forehead. She let out a squeal of delight, hair bobbing as he lifted her up back down to the floor. "But we have to clean up before your mother finishes up dinner. Don't you want some ice cream after?"

"I want to draw!" Juni began to pout, the beginnings of what could end in tears starting. Alfendi let out an inward sigh and put on his kindest voice in an effort to placate her. The toddler had Lucy’s patented stubbornness with Alfendi’s fiery demeanor, which was a combination just waiting to explode. It was endearing how the toddler blended their qualities into...well, the soft child he had in his arms.

"Juni--"

"Ee, what's all this now?" The soft lilt of a Yorkshire accent broke the almost impending debacle between daughter and father, with Lucy smiling at the two. "You can clean up later, let's eat first, aye?"

The little toddler ran over to her mother, hugging her shins, her drawing still clasped in her hands. Lucy chuckled, lifting her baby girl up as the child babbled about her drawing to her mother. Lucy nodded, occasionally interjecting at times to lightly correct her on her words. For a toddler, Juni spoke remarkably well, mainly to the fact that Alfendi refused to talk to Juni as if she was a baby. Instead, they mutually agreed on talking to her kindly but as if she was any other adult, utilizing the tool of omission for the most part.

Alfendi watched as Lucy brought Juni to the dining table, with him hot on their heels as he took his own seat down. It was oddly quaint, considering how he never expected himself to be here seven years ago, when he took on an assistant as forced onto him by the Commissioner. Hell, he hadn't expected such a turn of events when he became Lucy's 'boyfriend' and all the logical steps that he knew would happen eventually simply because he knew she was the _one_ for him. He supposed that even seven years isn't long enough for the novelty feeling to wear off, at least for him. Lucy took marriage and being a parent in stride, in which he followed with stumbles, even as he was older. Lucy merely cited it due to her being the oldest of her family, but Alfendi felt that there was just a natural sense of care that was present with the now twenty-eight year old. 

"Prof?" Lucy snapped him out of his reverie and he kissed her chastely on the lips, as if it was an apology for spacing out. "Come on, the food will get cold."

"Mm," he let out a small hum of agreement and stabbed his fork into the salad in content.

_Six Hours Ago_

Mornings in the Layton household typically fell under two categories. They were either incredibly slow-paced and calm or whirlwinds of chaos that couldn't be controlled.

Today, it unfortunately fell to the latter.

Truthfully, it wasn't like this before, back when they had gotten intimate and had moved in together but with a toddler that could not be tamed on her worst days, it was an unavoidable facet of their lives. It wouldn't be so difficult had they not had their own leading lives separate from each other. Sure, they worked in the same building and same department, but they had separate offices (across from each other) and separate assistants of their own that they were training, which meant they couldn't dilly-dally about like when they were still dating.

"Juni, we have to go." Lucy said to the child, who had thrown all her crayons in their living room space and was currently drawing something that Lucy couldn't quite distinguish yet. They were already nearing the threshold of lateness that Lucy despised and she knew the toddler would make it extremely difficult for her, based on the mess.

"Drawing!"

"No, Juni, we have to go now. We'll be late." Lucy said, pulling on a coat for the small child. Juni squirmed, trying to get out of her mother's grasp. Lucy didn't let up however, giving Juni one hard glare that made it clear that they were going to go, even if Juni wanted to draw. "You can draw later at daycare, aye?"

"Mummy, I want to draw!" Juni pouted, stomping her foot down. Lucy raised an eyebrow--a stomped foot was never good, the toddler knew this. Alfendi, having just walked out of their bedroom, watched the scene unfold and decided to intervene, whisking Juni up in his arms. The toddler squealed by default at the sudden lift, laughing as Alfendi twirled her around once, still grasping onto the green crayon she had in her hand.

"Juni, can you draw me something when you're at daycare?" Alfendi requested of the child, who stared at him quizzically. "Auntie Kat's birthday is next week darling, do you think you could draw her? I think she'd really like that from you."

"Aunie Kat?" The child asked, her eyes brightening. Katrielle, Alfendi's younger sister loved Juni to death, showering the toddler with way too many gifts and way too much love. Alfendi was surprised at Katrielle's alacrity when it came to it, but when Lucy revealed they had been sharing letters, it all made sense. Nevertheless, at the name of Katrielle, Juni became placated and nodded seriously, as if she was given the most important task of her young life. Lucy rolled her eyes, chuckling as she gave the toddler a kiss on the forehead.

"That's quite right, Juni. Now like your mummy said, we have to go."

"Go!" Juni laughed.

_Twenty Minutes Ago_

"Hey, Inspector Layton!" Alfendi glanced up from his analysis of the notes his assistant, Mark, had made on their current case and found himself looking at his lovely wife, who seemed to be ready to leave the office, if her coat and purse were any indication.

"Ee, hi Mark. I told you to call me Lucy, remember?" 

"Right, right. Sorry, sorry." Mark's cheeks turned pink as though he was speaking to a crush and Alfendi scowled, glaring daggers at the young man as he stood to stride towards Lucy. He shouldn't be the least bit jealous—they were happily married and Mark was just being friendly. Lucy, seeing this obvious display, rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

"Mark, your notes are off. You forgot to add on the anecdote on the paint splatter from the set. Fix it." He ordered the young man, who nodded fervently and began the task. Alfendi leaned down, kissing Lucy chastely, knowing she wasn't there for a social call. "What can I do for you, my dear? It can't be that you miss me, it hasn't been an hour yet." 

Lucy scoffed but smiled all the same, smoothing out his lab coat and dusting it off.

"I have to go back home and get that file on the Hawkins case. I told Janine if she had questions that she could ask you, but I highly doubt she'll even 'ave much to do..." Lucy trailed off, giving a weary sigh and peeking at her watch. "Did you need anything at the house?"

"No, no, it's fine. I'll text if I need to. Be safe, my dear," he says. He knows that Lucy will be safe—she was the kind of person to triple check if something was missing or wrong—but it felt imperative to always say it whenever they parted for longer than a moment or farther than just a mere room away.

"Ta, of course," Lucy grinned, kissing him one more time before taking her departure.

_Now_

**'I can't find it.'**

The text comes in roughly twenty minutes after Lucy had left and Alfendi raised an eyebrow--Lucy misplaced many things, but her work items were always in the same place unless someone else moved it. He sends a text back while Mark is glancing at the Reconstruction Machine, gathering the evidence of an cold case as a practice run while they wait for their witness on the other case they were working on. 

**'Have you tried the back of the couch on the right side?'**

He waits patiently for the three dots signifying she was texting back to come, knowing for a fact that their daughter probably took it for whatever reason she liked and Lucy would probably send a text about how ridiculous their child could be sometimes with the strangest of mannerisms. He was about to clarify further—he assumed that she may not have believed him—when he got a call from Lucy. Smiling, he answered to explain.

"Juni likes to have a stash there, have you truly—"

"She's gone."

Alfendi's blood runs cold and the smile is wiped off of his face in an instant. He blinks in his stupor, completely oblivious to Mark's brow furrowing in concern.

"Who?" He knows it's redundant, he knows it's obvious who the _she_ is in the pronoun game Lucy was playing but he needed confirmation. He needed to hear--

" _Juni_! They took her and I, oh 'ell..." Lucy trails off, her breathing reaching to the point of near hyperventilation. 

"Juni? They took...when? Lucy—"

"I don't know, I don't know, Anne just phoned, oh God, Alfendi, please—"

That's when he knows Lucy is absolutely one-hundred percent bonafide terrified: she's using his name. Not Prof, not some endearing nickname but _Alfendi_. He doesn't realize was Mark standing up as the door opened wide with Hilda at the forefront, eyes wide and breathing heavily as if she hadn't just come from a few doors down. The door across the hall is open as well, with Janine, Lucy's assistant, peering behind Hilda’s shoulder.

Alfendi opens his mouth to say something, anything, and the phone slips out of his lax hand. Mark's quick reflexes catches the mobile, with Lucy still on the other end. Mark speaks in soft, placating words to her, but Alfendi can't breathe, can't think, can't bloody anything. Everything was quiet, the rest of it all becoming a sense of white noise.

It's not until Hilda steps in, grabbing him by the arm and everything comes back at a shocking speed like a lorry had just hit him.

His daughter is missing. _His daughter is missing._

"Come on, Al. We got the call just moments ago and we need you. Lucy will need you when she arrives."

With a slight nod, he lets himself be whisked away by Hilda's strong grip.

* * *

Lucy doesn't know how she got from her house to the NSY in one piece and without breaking any major traffic laws, but somehow she finds herself in the eye of the hurricane, a flurry of activity surrounding her while she stood still. She had seen happen before, passing by a corridor or two and seeing broken parents trembling, waiting for their children while the authorities attempted to find them. It always came back to her whenever she was alone, thinking of Juni at daycare, with at any moment, she could be one of the parents in that drab blue plastic chair. 

How the tables have turned.

She knew it wasn't Anne's—the owner of the daycare—fault that her daughter had been taken, if the cries across the hall about how she truly hadn't realized the child had been missing, considering they had multiple charges besides Juniper Lucille Layton. Lucy exhales, attempting to calm her beating heart. Turning into one of those broken parents would do nothing to solve the predicament they faced.

Hilda, much to the Detective Inspector's surprise, was the one leading this investigation, even if it wasn't entirely her division. In a precision that Lucy would admire later, she utilized both Mark and Janine and everyone else that knew them or their story. 

All they had to go off of was grainy CCTV, which offered the worst angle possible when it came to trying to identify who had taken Juni, but the kicking toddler that was in the grasp of the buff, almost overbearing, unknown man was obviously her child. It was almost amusing to see the comparison between the kicking toddler and the overbearing man, their size differences apparent with just a mere glance. A well-placed baseball cap and a lack of angles kept the Yard from seeing his face, even as they rewinded the tape over and over again in a mere effort to get a blurry image of the captor.

Lucy glances to her husband, who wasn't fairing much better. They had gone to therapy in the past in an effort to understand the implementation of dissociative personality disorder that he suffered from after Forbodium and after Juni, he had gotten himself in check for the most part. The two personalities tended to live in a relatively 'safe' harmony, with the headaches subsiding and the switches infrequent to the point where they stopped blending incorrectly altogether. If anything, it almost seemed like they were a single entity once more, as if a shoddy hypnosis book hadn't done such immense damage to his brilliant mind.

That was completely thrown out of the window.

Anyone with eyes could see that Alfendi was fraying at the edges, Fendi attempting to remain civil but Al completely ignoring decorum, turning into some split that was unrecognizable. He was barking orders, then drastically shifting to a mere whisper. He was just barely keeping his temper in check as the two hour mark ticks by. She knows, deep down that façade of between, he was just as terrified as she was, perhaps even guilty. Their line of work, above all, contained dangers they were aware of, if his split mind and bullet scar were anything to go by.

_"Ee, what if I...er...stopped taking it altogether? You know, the birth control?"_

_Lucy felt the tension wrack the warm body below her, arms tightening marginally around her waist. She doesn't have to look up to know that her love's eyes had probably widened to the size of polo balls, perhaps going through all the possibilities of her question, maybe even considering that her post-coital haze has set her into a line of considerations that she'd never normally make sober._

_"You'd want a child...with me?" He ventured, attempting to sound light but failing miserably._

_"Er, well, it's a thought, eh?" Lucy shrugged, snuggling closer into Alfendi's body under the duvet. "We don't haveta, I just considered it because...well, I don't know why."_

_"Are you sure? I, er, well, I don't think I'd be the best candidate." Words fail him—a completely rare occurrence—and Lucy shifted, getting out of his grip to hover above the Detective Chief Inspector, staring down into his olive eyes, his messy, post-sex hair overflowing onto the light blue covers._

_"Blimey, Prof, are we still on about that? You told me that when we got married, by 'eck, you told me that when we started datin'!" Lucy kissed his nose, her free hand grasping his jawline and rubbing against the stubble she could feel there. He leaned into it without a second thought, peering up to Lucy like she had all the answers, even if they terrified him. "I wouldn't want this with anyone else, Prof, trial n' tribulation n' all."_

_"And the risks? You do recall our careers aren't the safest—"_

_"Aye, I know, but we're not like most officers, we don't go out in the field. It'll always be a concern, but I think we'll be okay." Alfendi's eyes flit around her face, as if searching for a joke that only Lucy was privy to. When he found nothing, he let out a low sigh and curled his arms around her waist, forcing her back down. Silence permeates the barely lit room and Lucy almost thought he had gone to sleep without another word, but his voice coloured the room once more._

_"Alright, Lucy."_

_"Blimey, really?"_

_"Honestly, my dear, how could I ever deny you?" He paused, searching her face once more, "unless you were joking?"_

_"No, no, 'ell, Prof, I...I want to."_

Lucy steps forward, grabbing onto his hand and he stops mid-rant to Mark, who was just giving him a cuppa to calm him. Alfendi meets Lucy's eyes and a strangled sound leaves his throat and they look at each other in mutual understanding and Alfendi tries to calm his breathing. Over his shoulder, Lucy gives Mark an apologetic expression, but he merely nods and walks off.

A determined set of footsteps enters the room and Lucy turns to the sight of Blaine Dartwright, Alfendi's occasional archenemy at the Yard for most difficult cases solved. Despite the exchanges of vitriol whenever the two Detective Chief Inspectors had seen each other, Blaine looks just as concerned as everyone else in the room.

"Tell me you have something," Hilda tells Blaine and a paper is exchanged, room silent save for small chatter of theories and typing. Blaine runs a hand through his blond hair and relays what he knows.

"It's a stolen rental car from a couple of hours ago. We checked the CCTV from the rental place but no luck on an ID. However, we found a CCTV capture that matches the plates on the car, headed towards the warehouses near the dock. There's a lack of CCTV in that area; must have made it easier to move around." Blaine explains, pointing at the printout in Hilda's hand as he speaks.

"Alright, we have a lead. Let's go." Shuffles of footsteps make their exits and that spurs Alfendi into action, releasing Lucy and begins to walk out as well when Hilda clears her throat, stepping between them and the exit. 

"What the hell do you want? Don't tell me you want me to _stay here_." Alfendi is practically seething at the intrusion. "Get out of my way, I swear, you—"

"You are in absolutely no condition—" _Oh, that wasn't the right thing to say,_ Lucy thinks. Hilda must realize it too, as the blonde woman takes a prepared step backward, almost as if preparing to be struck by the wild, yet barely kept-together man in front of her.

"No condition? No _condition_? It's my daughter—" Alfendi begins to protest and Lucy swears she could see the blood vessels ready to burst in his neck. Hilda keeps her ground, however, speaking over Lucy's husband even with her incorrect choice of words.

"And that's why you are in no condition, you aren't—"

"I'm not what? I've been in this business longer than you have and—"

"This isn't even your _place—_ "

"Neither is it yours, it's not even what Interpol—"

"This isn't some random case that you can go running off on. It's not like all the other cases you used to take! Christ, you are the _father_ in this situation—"

"Then if you know I'm the father, let me go, dammit!"

"Al—"

"Hilda, please," Lucy breaks the stalemate between the two, reaching to grab Alfendi's hand, squeezing it tightly. She feels the warmth of his hand, keeping her steady and keeping her from turning into the hysterical parent that Alfendi is slowly starting to show. The two seniors look to her and Hilda sighs, knowing she has been beaten, if not by Alfendi, then by Lucy's soft cadence. 

"Just promise to—" Hilda begins, but Lucy cuts her off.

"Aye, I know. I've seen how this works. We'll keep out of the way, just please." _Please, let us go. Our daughter is out there, somewhere, probably absolutely terrified. Every second we spend arguing is another second I don't know where she is. I'm so scared, Hilda, please, let us go. We need to be there, I need to know._

"Alright," Hilda acquiesces, as if she heard Lucy's internal monologue and Alfendi and Lucy sprint past her like their lives depended on it.

* * *

Alfendi has known Lucy for long enough to know that she is barely keeping it together behind the silence. A silent Lucy was a Lucy that was worried, sad, or terrified. Perhaps all of the above, if the hand gripping his was any indication.

Though, looking at her, she was faring much better than he had thought. In comparison between the two of them, he supposes that she has more control than anyone ever really gave her credit for, which was good—they needed at least one grounded parent and he sure as hell wasn't it. He knew he'd look back at it and analyze his behaviour, wondering why on earth he wasn't rational in those crucial hours of his daughter's disappearance.

Was this what it was like to have something precious to lose? Your mind, slowly warping away from reality as your claw your way to get it back by any means necessary? He glances down to Lucy's form, leaning against him. This crippling fear, god, it was terrifying, almost destructive in nature—how did people function like this?

"We're here," Hilda says as the patrol car comes to a stop in front of a warehouse. The car she had seen on CCTV is parked in the front and Lucy lets out a shaky breath as she follows Alfendi out of the car. Multiple officers are already breaching the warehouse that the car was parked in front of. Alfendi goes to join them and Hilda holds him back again with a manicured hand.

"You are going to wait here until they clear it." Hilda says sternly, other hand on her hip. It was clear she wasn't going to budge. Alfendi is almost tempted to snort and push past Hilda regardless of her penchant of the rules, but the grip Lucy had on his hand was enough to keep him at bay.

Hilda's words rang through his mind, _Lucy will need you._ Alfendi wraps his arm around her waist and she gets the hint, releasing her grip on his other hand and her own arms wrap around his middle, burying her face in his striped jumper. He couldn't play suicidal hero of the past, not anymore. He had his own to be concerned about.

Hilda holds onto her police radio tight, listening for the possibility that one of the officers would tell her that they found Juni, hopefully unharmed.

Hopefully.

"Clear! It's all clear, m'am," comes out of the radio.

Hilda lets out an uncharacteristic curse under her breath and radios back, "Is there anything there? Evidence?"

"A note and a broken crayon, m'am," the officer on the other end studiously reports, disappointment dripping from his voice.

Alfendi doesn't let up this time around and Hilda doesn't even bother to stop him, Lucy following hot on his heels as they make it to Mark and Janine, along with Blaine. Blaine is holding up the bagged note and Janine has gloves on, holding the broken green crayon that Juni was holding in the morning. Looking closely, Alfendi sees that the note is written on paper that Juni was in the process of drawing on—the image of crude stick figures of Katrielle, Alfendi, Lucy, and Juni were half finished, Lucy's green coat still being coloured in.

The image he asked Juni to draw this morning. 

Lucy stutters in her movement and Alfendi sneaks a glance, seeing her tremble at the mere sight of it. Blaine hands over the note, looking down and away from Alfendi's gaze as much as possible.

"Read it, Prof." Lucy murmurs quietly, clenching her fists. Alfendi clears his throat, willing his voice to be steady as he reads the cursive script.

 **"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Layton, I do declare, it's quite amusing how you two managed to create such a feisty child. I suppose that tension could only last so long in that stuffy little office you two used to share, mah goodness. How I was privy to that and still managed to get out in one piece, I do wonder. It's a good thing I have my man here or else I'd have such a hard time restraining her, she has quite the kicking legs. You're probably wondering where your darling is. We must go back in time to where the ice melted and you will find your spawn there. When you figure it out, do come in our flat, just the two of you. We would hate for your daughter to fall like mah deceased husband."** Alfendi read each word without emotion, brow furrowing and hands almost prepared to clench the paper tightly at the threat to Juni, if it wasn't for Lucy's gaze. Her gaze, which held a surprising amount of recognition that Alfendi didn't understand how she could've, not with such an obscure letter. He rereads it, nothing clicking and he looks to Lucy for elaboration.

"It's her," Lucy says simply. The eyes on her are plentiful, but she doesn't say anything more. Alfendi rereads the letter, brow furrowing. He can't think of anyone who could possibly write this that came to mind, no less the pronoun game that Lucy was muttering about.

"Who?" Janine prods carefully, channeling the surprise of the Yarders around her.

"Goldie Potsby-Mahn." Lucy says, exhaling slowly.

"Goldie?" Alfendi raises his head at the name. She had been such an early case—how could Lucy have gotten to that conclusion?

"Aye, it's her. Think about it, Prof—Potsby-Mahn was the only person we've ever 'ad that spoke that way and would possibly have a grudge against us for ruining her insurance policy for her husband, right?" Lucy turned to Alfendi, releasing his hand and taking the note from him. Realization dawns as Lucy continues, "I remember every case, Prof, the ice melting knife and everythin'. They've gotta be at—"

"The flat. The flat her and Jack lived in, that was where it all began." Alfendi finishes for her and she nods, worrying her lip to the point of the skin breaking. The officers around whisper, as if they had the right to determine what the best course of action would be.

"We can't go off based on a hunch." Mark finally interjects, shaking his head. "That's practically the first thing you taught me!" 

Alfendi sighs—the one thing the man takes from all of his lessons to him.

"There's no ransom. They just want to see us." Alfendi snaps, already frustrated at the time they were currently wasting making inane _buts_. "Lucy and I have cracked down on many cases both separately and together. I don't believe some random kidnapper would take Juni from the daycare out of all the children unless there was some sort of vendetta; any other reason isn't plausible. As Lucy says, this letter is exactly what Potsby-Mahn would do and write."

"I'm inclined to believe them, Layton." Blaine adds, "You've got yourselves a long list of enemies. They could just be wasting your time and such an obviously written note..."

"Sir, what if this is just someone trying to mislead you?" Janine asks, frowning and turning to her mentor, "Lucy, m'am, certainly a hunch—"

"A hunch is all we have!" The warehouse turns ghastly silent at Lucy's loud declaration, biting frustration that had been withheld from the entire day finally breaking through. "You don't understand, Janine, it's the best we 'ave! All I need to know is if Potsby-Mahn has been released, then we'd know!"

"You can't possibly—" Mark tries, but is cut off by signature heels clicking against the concrete flooring of the warehouse.

"We certainly can," Hilda lifts her chin and glares at the two assistants, "while your objections are valid and by all means, understandable, I have just gotten off the phone from the Commissioner to confirm if their... _hunch_ had any validity towards it."

"Well?" Alfendi levels his eyes to Hilda, almost in a challenge. Hilda raises an eyebrow, almost as if to say, _I'm not the one you need to be upset at, Al._

"Potsby-Mahn has been on parole for two months on good behaviour, among other reasons. She's been the picture perfect prisoner, it seems," Hilda says, "her parole officer lost contact with her this morning and hasn't had anything turn up." Hilda turns, addressing the conglomerate of officers inside the warehouse.

"We're off. _Now_."

* * *

It doesn't take them that long to get to the flats. From a phone call to the landlord that Lucy could gather, the flat that Jack had been killed in had been hard to get on the market without people finding out the crime until a man randomly got a six month lease, no questions asked. The landlord hadn't realized it was too convenient, only glad that he was able to rent it to _someone_ and merely gave outt he lease no problem. A further pressing of the descriptor of the man, the landlord only said that it was someone who had a spiked collar around his neck and the thickest eyebrows.

That was enough for Lucy's stomach to curl, but she kept it at bay as much as possible, hardly even realizing the car had once again came to a halt in front of the flats she had only seen via the Reconstruction Machine. The entire area was taped off, officers at many different angles. The Commissioner stood next to Deputy Chan at the edge, watching the proceedings—this had definitely gotten incredibly personal.

"Are you sure they're here?" Lucy asks Hilda as they all step out, the two worried parents trailing behind the blonde woman.

"Yes, we are. We found CCTV footage of Potsby-Mahn coming here along with that man of hers, Bingo." Hilda confirms, "We haven't gone in yet; we don't know what they'll do based on that note alone."

"Finally, mah goodness!" A voice rings out from the balcony, the one where the glass had broken all those years ago. "You've taken way too long, mah Lord. Come on in, don't you want to see your daughter?" Alfendi makes the steps forward towards the front of the flats, but Lucy grabs ahold of his bicep tightly.

"What the 'ell do you think you're doin'?" She asks, the end of her question trembling slightly. Alfendi turns back, cupping her face with his palms that betrayed his fear with sweat. She grasps his wrists tightly, almost as if she was afraid to let go--no, she _is_ afraid.

"I'm getting her back, my dear."

"Not without me, Prof.” 

" _You_ have to be safe."

"No! Do you even remember the last time you ran out like this?” Lucy pushes his hands away, nostrils flaring. She didn't need to say anything else; they both knew what she referred to. She placed a hand on his chest where she knew his scar from all those years ago remained, letting out a shaky breath. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," Alfendi guarantees, kissing the top of her forehead. "I'll bring her back, we’ll be okay."

”Promise?” Lucy hates how her voice sounds, but she cannot help the tremble in it—her husband was practically running into the hands of the same people that took her daughter. They did _everything_ together, even as they got separate offices and worked independently from each other and the Detective Inspector couldn't help but keep him at bay. They could get an officer, someone else to go up there and retrieve their child without risk between them.

"I promise, my love." He murmurs, offering a chaste kiss on the lips before making the trek into the lion's den.

* * *

Alfendi doesn't look back, knowing fully well if he did, he wouldn't be able to do what he must. With a swish of his lab coat, he moves through the flats and finds himself in front of the door in record time.

He twists the doorknob without ceremony; the entire flat was dark, though hardly silent. Small whimpers of a child could be heard; _his_ child. Juni.

He takes a step forward and the lights flicker on, blinding him for the briefest of moments but his eyes adjust, finding himself looking at Potsby-Mahn and her faithful...companion, Bingo, across the room. The living room was relatively empty, save for the armchair that Potsby-Mahn was sitting on. Juni was in Bingo's grip, squirming and brightened at the sight of her father, even as her dried cheeks and puffy eyes clued him in on her discomfort.   
  
“Daddy!” She cries, her squirming renewing with vigor. Fresh tears stream down her face and he notes that she doesn’t seem to be harmed, no blood or injury present. Bingo clenches his hand tighter against the child and rather than a poor imitation of a knife created by ice, it dawns on Alfendi that he's holding a very real, very loaded gun.

To the head of his daughter.  
  
“Juni, sweetie, don’t worry, I’m right here, baby.” He placates from a distance, then his eyes glare daggers to Goldie, taking a step to the side and away from the door. “I wouldn’t take you to be a child abductor. There’s no insurance policy to gain here.”

”Mah goodness, you think that’s all I’m here for?” Goldie practically rolls her eyes, "I wouldn't be able even take the money from this little one's policy if you had one. No, Inspector, I want you to know what it's like to lose something dear to you." 

"And you consider _money_ dear to you?" He spits out, resisting the urge to step forward and wipe the smirk off her face. He really should have thought of a plan, Alfendi thinks, instead of going in without one. Yet another thing to chalk up to the paranoia and concern of losing something ever so dear—all mental faculties go moot, everything on overdrive to save what was valuable. 

"Mm, money does buy many luxuries, perhaps even happiness. It's a good thing my darling Bing was here, had my money on lock for me to come back to." She lifts a hand to Bingo's face and he leans into it. Goldie moves her attentions to Juni, who jerks away as much as possible in Bingo's strong grip, "I don't see the appeal in children myself, they're so feisty and require so much...attention."

"You didn't get to keep your husbands long enough before you could even get to the concept of childbirth," Alfendi snaps, grimacing as Juni begins to sob again. He wanted nothing more than his baby darling to stop her tears, to be in his arms again. "Can I hold her? I want her to stop crying, please."

"Hmph, you surely have gotten soft, Inspector," Goldie says, motioning for Bingo to let the child go. Bingo does as ordered, releasing the child and the toddler clambors as fast as possible to her father, with Alfendi taking two steps to meet her. He lifts her in his arms, running his slim hand over her ginger locks and categorizing any injuries. None, by the looks of it, and he gives an inward sigh of relief. 

Though, he realizes, he's made quite the error.

In another gesture, Bingo has the gun pointed directly to Alfendi, ready to fire. Alfendi whirls around as quick as possible, shielding the toddler towards his chest and away from the threat—his body would probably take the brunt of the damage, keeping her from harm. A shot rings in his ears, but he doesn't feel the bullet come—instead, he hears Goldie's shriek, glass shattering, and a body drop to the floor, followed by a yelp of pain. Alfendi turns, still keeping Juni shielded, just enough to see Lucy from the balcony—she must have climbed up, with a gun in her hand. Bingo is on the floor, a bullet through his shoulder—painful, but it's unlikely to kill him quickly in comparison to a much more vital target.

Lucy steps into the room, her own weapon trained on Goldie—it must have been from one of the special units that Commissioner Barton had called in. Alfendi doesn't even recall that Lucy had any arms training—she must have gotten it without his knowledge or at the very least, after they had separated from the Mystery Room. He feels a surge of pride, but tampers it down and keeps the sobbing Juni in his arms calm by rocking gently back and forth.

"Well, I do declare, you've gained a spine, Miss Baker! I didn't know such a l'il thing like you could fire a gun!" Goldie laughs, the irritating sound, but there's a lace of panic wrapped within—she knows she is beaten.

"Nowt out of you! How dare you have the gall to kidnap my daughter!" Lucy says, stepping closer and closer to the pair of them. Juni squirms, calling out for her mummy. Lucy looks away, turning to her daughter, still keeping the weapon trained . "Juni, baby, it's okay. Just hold onto daddy, okay?"

"Mummy..." Juni pleads, turning her head to her mum and Alfendi too, glances at the toddler wrapped in his grip, tears still spilling down her cheeks. 

Alfendi, when replaying the scene later from his memory, would say that he should have kept his eyes trained on the insane woman across from them as the slight glint of a weapon catches his attention. In the moment, however, it's too late as he looks up, finding Goldie holding Bingo's pistol. It happens so fast, with Alfendi calling out Lucy's name and the woman in question turning too late and a single shot is fired. 

Everything turns slow in Alfendi's eyes.

Although Goldie has the gun aimed at Lucy's chest, she is shaking too hard, and instead hits her abdomen, but hits all the same. Lucy chokes, dropping the gun and falls. It's at that moment that Scotland Yard's finest decides to make their appearance, kicking the door down and multiple officers come in, particularly firearms officers that have weapons trained on Goldie, yelling at her to drop the gun. AThe gold digging woman knows she's officially beaten and she drops the weapon, raising her arms up. 

The flurry of moment hardly matters to Alfendi, however, as he drops to his knees and shifts Juni's weight, bringing a hand to Lucy's, which are already attempting to staunch the wound. He can vaguely hear Hilda calling for paramedics, with Blaine coming to crouch next to Alfendi, but he doesn't really register it properly as he would have normally.

"Lucy, no, oh god, no..." He babbles, keeping Juni's face pressed to his shoulder—she shouldn't see this, even if she was still too young to remember it all. "Lucy..."

"Prof, you gotta get 'er—blimey, this 'urts—outta 'ere, please." She shifts her focus to Blaine, gritting her teeth, her voice slurred and strong Yorkshire accent returning. "Take 'er, please, I don't want 'er to see this.."

Blaine pulls on Alfendi's shoulder, forcing the man to look away from Lucy for once.

"Are you hurt?" When Alfendi doesn't respond, Blaine shakes him gently. "Al, are you hurt?" Blaine gently pries Juni from her grip, taking the child away. Juni grasps tightly on Blaine's white coat, trying to turn to see her parents. For the hate the two shared against each other in the workplace, Alfendi could only thank Blaine silently. Blaine holds her head gently to his shoulder, making sure, just like Alfendi, that she didn't see much of the scene as possible.

"No, no, I'm fine, Lucy..." Alfendi loses the words to speak and Blaine nods, standing up and moving away from the scene and towards the kitchen, gently rocking the child back and forth to calm her. Alfendi turns his attention back to his wife, who is looking more pale than she ever had in the past.

"Did you climb?" Alfendi asks, the blood already staining his hand. 

"Aye, I did. You know, I'm surprised that burglar was able to climb that, all those years ago, Prof." Lucy groans, closing her eyes for a moment and opening them with determination as she peers into his olive ones, "You two'll be fine without me, eh?"

"Lucy, shut up for once!"

"Prof—"

"Shut up or I'll cut your tongue!" He declares without a second thought and Lucy laughs, but the beautiful sound has it's mirth stripped from it. 

"Blimey, I 'aven't 'eard that in ages, " her laughter dies into giggles and it's just then Alfendi remembers that the two that had orchestrated this entire monstrosity were being put into handcuffs behind him. Alfendi stands with purpose, striding over to the woman that did this—to his daughter and his wife, no less. 

"Al, if you hurt her, we can't put her in court!" Hilda snaps, striding over to stop him—perhaps concerned he was about to do something irrational. Alfendi stands over both Bingo and Goldie with several police officers holding them in place, cuffed. Alfendi wrenches Goldie's chin up to face him, the blood from Lucy's wound staining her pale skin. He could care less about Bingo; he was a poor case of someone who was the type to follow whatever a pretty woman would say, but Goldie—she was the mastermind behind it afterall.

"If I could, I would make sure you never walked this earth. But I won't do that. I want you to rot in jail and know what you've done, what you've committed. No amount of good behaviour or money will ever let you out." He snarls and resists the urge to punch the smirk from the woman's face. Instead, he turns away and back to his love, and drops down to her once more. 

"'ey, Prof, it's okay," Lucy says, a thin smile offering little comfort.

"It really isn't, Baker!"

"Ah, another thing you 'aven't said in awhile, by 'eck, are we really goin' down memory lane?" She grimaces, fingers trembling.

"You've been _shot_ Lucy, now is _not_ the time for jokes."

"At least we'll match."

"Lucy—"

"I love you, Prof." At that moment, the paramedics join the insanity of the room and lift Lucy up onto the stretcher. Alfendi stands, offering Lucy one more kiss on the lips as she's taken away. Blaine comes close to him, Juni still rocking in his arms. She's still whimpering, but her tears have stopped.

"Get that hand washed, Layton, so it doesn't get on her." Blaine says, jerking his head over to the kitchen sink. "Lucy will be with the best they can offer, but she needs you now." Blaine shifts his hold on Juni and Alfendi nods, knowing that Juni needed him now—Lucy would be okay.

Lucy would. She had to.

* * *

Lucy, if she had to choose between childbirth and being shot for which would be the most painful, she would definitely put being shot above childbirth—getting shot definitely did not merit being lower than childbirth. At least with childbirth, you got something beautiful from it. Being shot got her in a hospital bed, a morphine drip, and a dry throat—nothing that would deem the pain worth it.

The Detective Inspector opens her eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the somewhat bright light, and that in-between from waking up to full consciousness was coming slower than normal, but it came eventually as she remembered what happened. Kidnapped Juni, shot, losing consciousness, going into shock...ah. Lucy turns her head slowly, finding a scene she had seen many times before—Alfendi, his head cradled in his palm, arm propped up on an arm rest while Juni slept peacefully against his chest, although the smell of antiseptic and sterility was never a part of the scenes in her mind.

"Prof," she calls gently, almost expecting her rough and underused voice to not be enough to wake him, but much to her surprise, he jolts awake, somehow cautious of Juni in his lap. He looks up to her, surprised, followed by a warm look of relief. "Juni shouldn't be 'ere."

"Neither should you, but here we are, my dear." He gently lifts the toddler up and into the other chair and pillow that was beside him, putting her favourite stuffed bee in her grasp. Juni fidgets slightly before settling in comfortably. Alfendi stands, coming close beside her bed and grasping her face. "You can't do that to me again."

"Well, it wasn't like I 'ad much of a choice, Prof." She breaks out into a grin, "at least our work doesn't require being at the scene of a murder or chasing criminals, hm?"

"Only you could ever see the silver lining of this," he says, rolling his eyes but kissing her with as much passion he could put into the awkward angle. It was a kiss that conveyed everything he wasn't saying, Lucy knew— _thank god you're safe, I love you, please never leave me, I can't bare to see you hurt ever again, I love you, you'll be okay, we're okay_ —and Lucy reciprocated just as much. 

"Sleep 'ere, Prof. I can't imagine that chair bein' any sort of comforting," Lucy glances over to the sleeping form of Juni, "bring her 'ere too."

"Can we fit? I don't want to distress your wound." Alfendi says, his eyes roaming at her frail figure.

"You're as lanky as a stick Prof, I think we'll manage. I'll budge over," Lucy says, then grimaces from the attempt that strains her underused muscles. "Ee, maybe you'll have'ta move me."

"No need, we'll make it work." Alfendi says instead, lifting the child and putting her next to Lucy. Juni scrambles over onto Lucy, just barely missing the wound, still holding the bee in her grasp. Alfendi sheds his labcoat and shoes, joining in and careful not to wake the toddler nor move Lucy too much. He puts a hand to the morphine dial and glances over, expecting permission.

"Go ahead. If she jostles me, I won't feel it at least." He nods, upping the dose a little and then adjusts himself as needed, watching as Lucy shuts her eyes in favor for the realm of unconsciousness.

Alfendi wraps his arm loosely around the two most important people in his life, the cynosure of his eyes. The two people he would do anything for, no matter the consequence. Forget food, water, body functions, everything _else_ that wasn't Juniper Lucille Layton and Lucy Layton. Forget everything that consisted of himself, they were _it_. They were the only two people in the world he will ever want to see for the rest of his life. He watched them breathe, that beautiful concept that kept humanity alive that he never quite thought about until this point, but oh, how beautiful it was.

People wrote poems about these things, songs, novels, sonnets, created pictures, paintings or dances, whatever a creative fancied to describe this intense feeling. But for Alfendi? No amount of any of those artforms would be able to tell the world just how much he loved these two human beings that were pressed against him, doing the most basic thing humans could do when alive: breathe.

Nobody would be able to put it into words, not even Alfendi himself. Though, that didn't really matter. What mattered was that his family—the only people he'd ever care for in this way—were alive. Nobody would ever take that away from him, no matter what—Alfendi knew that just as his fingers trace loose patterns on Lucy's soft skin, until he too fell into a deep slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where I was going with this and to be honest, I probably chose Goldie because she's accessible and I just remember her the most.
> 
> I'm well-aware that most officers in the UK don't carry a weapon (much better than America over here) and it's very unlikely based on Lucy's position at the Yard that she would know how to use a weapon, but please suspend your reality for a moment for that portion; I just wanted Lucy to save her darn daughter and husband.


End file.
